ldering, broken, is
towed out of the channel, and left to end its life in fitful flashes
on a sandy point. The returning boats are greeted with cheers, and
soon darkness and silence fall upon the scene. The mortars cease their
thunderous work for the night; and ere long the only sounds heard are
the rush of the mighty waters, or the faint cry of the night birds in
the forest. The sentinel pacing the deck peers in vain through the
gloom. War gives way for a time to rest.

[Illustration: Fire-raft at Forts of the Mississippi.]

Hardly had the gray dawn begun to appear, when the roll of the drums
on the decks of the ships was heard; and, soon after, the roar of the
opening gun was heard from one of the mortar-schooners. Again the
bombardment was opened. The twenty boats in the mortar-fleet were
divided into three divisions, each of which fired for two hours in
succession, and then stopped for a time to allow the great cannon to
cool. Thus a continuous bombardment was kept up, and the soldiers in
the forts were given no time to repair the damages caused by the
bursting shells. Every mortar was fired once in five minutes; so that
one shell was hurled towards the fort about every minute, while
sometimes three shells would be seen sweeping with majestic curves
through the air at the same time. The shells weighed two hundred and
fifteen pounds; and when they were hurled into the air by the
explosion of twenty pounds of powder, the boat bearing the mortar was
driven down into the water six or eight inches, and the light railings
and woodwork of buildings at the Balize, thirty miles away, were
shattered by the concussion. The shells rose high in the air, with an
unearthly shriek, and after a curve of a mile and a half fell into
or near the forts, and, bursting, threw their deadly fragments in all
directions. Day after day, and night after night, this went on. If the
men on the mortar-schooners showed bravery and endurance in keeping up
so exhausting a fire so steadily, what shall we say for the men in the
forts who bore up against it so nobly? Before noon of the first day of
the bombardment, the soldiers of Fort Jackson saw their barracks
burned, with their clothing, bedding, and several days' rations.
Shells were pouring in upon them from vessels that they could not see.
The smooth-bore guns mounted in the embrasures would hardly send a
shot to the nearest of the hostile gunboats. Then the river broke
through its banks, and ha